


What We Miss Most

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Homesickness, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Light Angst, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27472591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: While the day of activities Shiro planned for team Voltron started off because of homesickness and his desire to give everyone a sense of normalcy, he’s realizing it’s not actually so simple. Because today is also about being part of a team and maybe, by the end, being part of afamily.“We all did a great job,” Hunk said, his gaze going around the table. “And Keith, man,” and Keith gave a small start at the address, “you can cook!”“I cooked!” Lance protested.“You stirred a pot,” Pidge rolled her eyes, “and shelled beans. Keithcooked,” as Keith had taken over the meat and spices.“So?”But Lance was smiling rather than pouting and he gave Keith’s shoulder a bump.
Relationships: Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) & Everyone, Shiro (Voltron) & Everyone
Comments: 44
Kudos: 228





	What We Miss Most

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** early season one  
>  **Warning notes:** none

Shiro was just finishing up his third round of sleepless night / nightmare driven patrol when he saw the light on in the kitchen and heard the murmur of voices.

He let out a tired sigh, running a hand through now stiff sweat-dried hair, and began to make his way over to order everyone (including himself, he needed the sleep) back to bed. 

But before he crossed the threshold one of the voices gave way to a sob and his step faltered.

Someone was crying?

“—go home,” came the words, high-pitched and clogged with tears. 

Lance.

“I know, _hermano,”_ came a quiet, gentle murmur that Shiro identified as Hunk. “I know.” 

“I miss Mamá and Papá,” Lance choked out. 

Shiro’s heart twisted.

He couldn’t say he really knew Lance or Hunk very well, but what he did know was Lance was generally very upbeat, humorous, with an always ready smile and laugh.

Not this.

And yet…

A quiet _clink_ of likely a cup — and the reason they were in the kitchen — sounded and a, “Here, try this.”

A sniffle.

“It tastes like cinnamon,” came Lance’s whisper. “Like… like h-home. _Gracias,_ Hunk.” 

Hunk said something too soft for Shiro to catch and that was his cue to step back from this private moment that he had no business intruding upon when he wasn’t even aware at least one member of his team was feeling so homesick.

So sad.

And while tonight wasn’t the right time to do something about it…

Tomorrow would be a different story.

xxx

“More training?” Lance moaned as he trudged into the lounge, exaggeratedly throwing himself on the couch. “Shiro, nooooo.”

“You big baby,” Pidge grumped at him, shoving one of Lance’s legs where it had landed across her lap. “We’re not even in uniform.”

“But training! On our day off!”

If Shiro hadn’t overheard what he had in the overnight hours he wouldn’t have believed that Lance was the same as this one. 

But he had.

And he doubted Lance was the only one who was homesick either, who was longing for a little slice of normalcy. 

His eyes cut away from the two of them, now engaged in Lance trying to wriggle all of himself atop Pidge as she squawked but didn’t seem to be actually upset, to where Hunk was coming into the room, pausing, and then rushing over with a, “Pidge! I’ll save you!” and then to where Keith was sitting in an armchair across from them, arms crossed and looking away but Shiro could see how his body was angled towards the other teenagers.

Yes.

They _all_ needed this.

This wasn’t just about homesickness or normal routine. This was about being a team, about being _friends._

And Shiro had just the thing.

“All right everyone,” he stood up from where he’d taken a seat on the other couch and he was amused as Lance immediately made a shushing noise and attempted to straighten up. “I called you here for training but… it’s not training for Voltron. It’s not really even training at all.”

Shiro didn’t explain any further except to hold out a tablet he’d borrowed from Coran. “I’m going to pass this around and in the post-it note tab with your name on it you are going to write one activity you miss from back on Earth, preferably something that can be done with a group.”

“Wait wait wait,” Lance flapped his hands and there was no missing his excitement but, and only because Shiro was looking for it, he could see the wistfulness, the smile that was a touch sad. “Is this a team bonding moment?”

Shiro just smiled. 

“Ooh, me first!” Lance jumped up from the couch and practically snatched the tablet from Shiro, a sheepish, “sorry,” directed then and Shiro just waved his hand.

But for all his enthusiasm Lance didn’t write anything right away, pausing and looking thoughtful. 

“Sometime this century?” Pidge snarked and Lance stuck his tongue out at her, scrawled something on the pad, and handed it to Hunk who only took a moment before giving it to Pidge, who to Shiro’s relief hopped up and crossed the room to hand it to Keith. 

Keith looked at Shiro, brows drawn, and Shiro gave an encouraging nod. 

“Anything, buddy,” he said gently.

“But not training!” Lance chimed in. “ _Dios,_ please don’t put training.” 

Keith scowled in Lance’s direction. “I don’t train all the time.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He leaned forward with a mischievous smirk. “What do mullets do in their free time?”

“Lance,” Shiro said warningly as Keith’s hands clenched around the tablet. 

“Sorry,” Lance wilted back into the couch cushion although the apology was aimed more at Shiro than Keith.

Shiro very much hoped this afternoon went as he envisioned because they very much needed it.

Keith needed it, even if he would never admit it.

“Here,” Keith handed the pad back to Shiro, eyes averted. 

Shiro held up a hand for a moment as he scrolled through all four entries.

These…

These were actually perfect.

“Hunk,” he looked up. “Why don’t you share what you wrote?”

“Me?” Hunk clarified, surprised. “Okay, um… well, I said I miss cooking with my family. My mom, really. We spend the whole day sometimes in the kitchen and we put on music and… well,” Hunk gave a small shrug. 

“It sounds like a really fun time,” Shiro said gently and Hunk nodded, his eyes a bit bright, and Lance made a murmuring sound and placed a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “And if you’re up for it, how about we all make lunch together as a group? Whatever you’d like.”

“I’d like that,” Hunk matched Shiro’s smile. 

“I’ll load up some music?” Pidge suggested. 

“Do you have the Dirty Dancing soundtrack?” Lance perked up.

“Lance, that’s the baking music,” Hunk gave him a gentle shove. “Pidge, you have any Disney on there?”

Pidge’s glasses flashed in a way that sent shivers down Shiro’s spine.

A few minutes later they were all in the kitchen, “Circle of Life” playing in the background, and Hunk had taken charge in a way Shiro had not seen the generally timid boy do, doling out tasks and assignments for a space chili recipe he’d wanted to try. 

“Shiro, could you start breaking up the space hamburger and get it going on a skille—”

Keith made a garbled choking noise that sounded distinctly like, “hell no,” and Shiro didn’t know whether he should laugh or be offended.

He settled on just being glad as attention turned to them and if his cooking skills (or lack thereof) had to be thrown under the bus for a positive interaction for Keith with the others he could take it. 

“Uh, why not?” Hunk asked, gaze darting between Shiro and Keith.

Keith though walked back his words and retreated back into his shell with a small headshake, a guilty look thrown at Shiro.

Nu uh.

“I can’t cook,” Shiro admitted. “Or, well, not well,” he looked to Keith with a wink.

It was okay.

“No way,” Lance interjected. “You’re Shiro! You can do anything.”

“Except cook,” Shiro said straight-faced. “Keith can tell you all about it.”

And while Shiro (now on chopping up vegetables and regulated to setting the table) was ninety-nine percent positive Keith was embellishing some of his cooking failures, he didn’t care as Keith was now positioned squarely between Hunk and Lance at the counter and relaxed in a way Shiro hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

Good.

“All right,” Hunk announced as he put the lid on the pot about half an hour later, “that needs to simmer for about an hour and a half.”

“And that sounds like the perfect amount of time for Pidge’s activity,” Shiro said, turning to the girl who was in the process of licking the cornbread bowl and Shiro wasn’t entirely sure that was safe. 

“I miss family game nights,” she said. “Especially strategy games where Matt and I would team up against our parents.”

“I know we don’t have any Earth games here,” Shiro said. “But how does everyone feel about some hangman?”

The game he’d selected as he thought about it over lunch prep as it didn’t involve teams, was simple enough to create on the tablet with holograms, and didn’t need set-up or takedown.

“I am the absolute best at hangman,” Lance threw out his chest. 

“Prove it,” Pidge smirked. “You’re going down, tailor.”

“Don’t cry when I beat you, gremlin.”

Scoring became a bit of a free for all and Shiro had to remind them that the words and phrases they picked had to be both a; in English (Lance), b; not jargon specific (Pidge and Hunk) and c; did not involve swears (Pidge and Keith), and d; the hangman had one head, four limbs and a body and no, no additional appendages were allowed, as they tried to one-up each other, but overall Shiro would say it was a rousing success (Pidge claiming victory) and he hated to break it up, but the chili was ready and they still had two more activities to do before evening. 

“Hunk, you outdid yourself, _hermano,”_ Lance said, leaning back and patting his stomach as they wrapped up their meal.

“We all did a great job,” Hunk said, his gaze going around the table. “And Keith, man,” and Keith gave a small start at the address (seated between Pidge and Lance instead of his normal spot next to Shiro), “you can cook!”

“I cooked!” Lance protested.

“You stirred a pot,” Pidge rolled her eyes, “and shelled beans. Keith _cooked,”_ as Keith had taken over the meat and spices.

“So?” 

But Lance was smiling rather than pouting and he gave Keith’s shoulder a bump.

“You’ll have to help me more in the kitchen,” Hunk smiled. “If, if you want to, that is.”

“I’d like that,” Keith said quietly, the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

Shiro beamed.

And on that note…

“Let’s clean up our dishes,” he said, “and then, Keith, let’s hear your activity.”

Shiro had been a bit curious (and worried) as what Keith was going to select because for all of Lance’s teasing Keith really didn’t tend to have hobbies or enjoy more frivolous pastimes.

“I like hiking,” Keith said quietly. 

He didn’t add anything else but that was more than enough and everyone else seemed to realize it too.

“I love hiking!” Lance exclaimed. “Me and my family would go all the time and..” he trailed off, that same wistfulness from before entering his eyes. “Anyways,” he gave a tiny shrug, “hiking is fun. But, uh, Shiro?” he looked up. “We’re sort of in the middle of space.”

Shiro grinned. “How do you all feel about a little planetside trip? I’ll drive,” he offered innocently.

It clicked a moment later and Lance let out a loud whoop that had Pidge cursing. 

“We get to fly with Shiro! We get to fly with Shiro!”

Shiro felt his own cheeks heating a bit at clear admiration and excitement and he resolved to make sure he and the Black Lion did a few extra loops and hairpin turns on their way down to the planet he’d confirmed via a quick message to Coran during lunch was safe for humans.

They were disembarking from the Black Lion about forty minutes later onto a wooded planet, which aerial had showed had a lake about an hour walk from them and it was there they headed.

Quietly.

“So,” Lance cut into the silence and Shiro, at the second to back of the single-file line they made through the thick forest, smiled as he’d guessed who would tire of the quiet and admiring the trees first, “who do you hike with, Keith?”

And oh.

That was not what Shiro had expected.

Less expected was Keith’s response from the front of the line.

“Myself, mostly,” he said, the tiniest bit defensive but honest. “Sometimes Shiro.”

“In the desert?” Lance followed up with. 

“Yeah. It’s how I found the Blue Lion.”

“Did you ever find anything else neat?”

“Well… I found a den of baby coyotes once…”

Hunk almost crashed into Shiro from behind as he missed his next step.

Keith was having a _conversation_ with Lance.

With the whole team, as Pidge piped in and then Hunk said something, and Shiro was glad none could see his face as his grin probably looked a bit psychotic.

_Yes._

When they reached the lake — also safe for humans — Shiro was not surprised at all that Lance was the first to kick off his socks and shoes and roll up his pants to wade into the water with a not actually at all exaggerated sigh of contentment.

“Feels great,” he grinned, splashing his hand in the water and aiming it at Pidge, who was more slowly entering the shallows. 

She let out a shriek and shoved a much large wave back at him and Hunk was screaming, “water fight!”

Twenty minutes and five soaked Paladins later, Shiro was ordering them all out of the water to dry off in the sun.

But while they were doing that…

“Lance,” he said, summoning a grinning face as he wrung out his jacket, “what was the activity you wrote down?”

Lance’s large grin faded to be replaced with a soft smile and looked away and up at the sky. “Stargazing,” he said quietly, “with my family. We make constellations and shapes in the clouds and Mamá makes hot chocolate and we stay up late and…” he trailed off.

And there it was again; a glimpse of the quieter, softer person beneath Lance’s loud smile, and while Hunk didn’t seem surprised by it Pidge’s gaze was contemplative and Keith…

Keith looked both surprised and… happy. 

Shiro more than understood.

“Well, buddy, I’ve got two options,” Shiro said. “We can cloud gaze here or we can go back up in Black and star gaze out the front windows.”

Lance looked down from the sky and at his sopping wet jacket in hand, and then at the various other states of undress (only Shiro and Pidge remaining fully clothed) and he grinned. “I vote cloud gazing here.”

“Amen to that,” Pidge muttered, lying down on the grassy bank with wet squelch. 

They passed the next hour picking out shapes in the quickly moving clouds above, bickering (but in a friendly way) when the others’ couldn’t make out their creations, and drying out in the warm sunshine while drinking from water pouches and snacking on the dried almost raisin-like fruits and nuts Hunk had brought with, claiming trail mix was a requirement for a hike.

“This was a lot of fun,” Lance said as they hiked back to the Black Lion, a murmur of agreement passing down the line. He turned, looking over his shoulder at Shiro with the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Thanks for doing this, Shiro.”

“I’m glad everyone had a good time,” Shiro smiled back. 

And it was more than just that.

A lot more.

“Butttt,” Lance drawled, “there’s one thing we didn’t do.”

“We didn’t?” Shiro asked, brow furrowing.

“Your favorite activity,” Hunk said.

Oh.

He hadn’t thought of that.

“Well,” Shiro said, “I love flying. And we all flew down on—”

“Err!” Lance made a buzzer noise. “That doesn’t count. It has to be something you miss doing, remember?”

“We do fly nearly every day,” Keith said traitorously.

“Exactly!” Lance waved his arms. “Thank you, Keith. Come on, Shiro. You have to share too.”

Shiro tapped his chin. “Well… I guess there is one thing we could all do…”

And, Shiro decided as he looked around the castle’s lounge a half hour later, this was the perfect way to end the day.

Movie night (afternoon).

Lance was insisting that Keith use Hunk as a pillow since he never had watched movies with them before, to which Hunk was noting he had the space popcorn bowl to make it a more enticing offer and while Keith had tentatively curled up on the couch next to Hunk he still did so. Lance sat on the floor in front of the couch between Hunk and Keith’s legs— directly beneath the popcorn bowl, Shiro noticed — while Pidge squeezed in between Shiro and Keith and draped her feet on top of Lance’s shoulders and rested her head against Shiro’s side and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his other draping over the back of the couch.

They were not just a team, but friends.

No, Shiro gave a small shake of his head.

Today had been all about team bonding and all of the activities… they were things they did with their families.

And that meant…

They were a family.

Shiro’s lips pulled into a gentle smile as he gazed at the teens, all looking at the screen as the movie started, all relaxed and comfortable and happy and together.

And while they all still missed their families, missed home…

They didn’t have to miss out anymore. Because this was their new family.

And Shiro couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> (fun fact: my mom always played the Dirty Dancing soundtrack when we baked)
> 
> I don't know how everyone else is feeling, but it's been a hell of a last week here and I'm still feeling really awful and sad (ray of brightness though was seeing class, dignity and respect being restored to my country and congrats, President-elect Biden and Vice-President-elect Harris! ♥) to start this one, so I figured I'd post something soft and warm to both provide comfort and give a little nod to the beautiful ideals of supporting one another and learning from each other. 
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic it would mean a lot to hear from you in the comments ♥ To those that do, thank you very much for your support.


End file.
